


feels so good to feel

by gureisu



Category: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket (Anime 2001), Fruits Basket (Anime 2019), Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: Cute, Established Relationship, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Manga Spoilers, Romance, Sexual Tension, Sexy Times, lovey dovey but make it sexy, teenagers having sexual feelings, tohru's not that innocent tho, スルメな
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:42:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25472566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gureisu/pseuds/gureisu
Summary: On the porch, Kyo was stretching. He leaned over with both arms above his head, and a muscle she hadn’t noticed before flexed in his right shoulder, shining with sweat.And there it was again. That fire inside her, unlike anything she’d felt before.Her breath caught in her throat. She felt like she needed to drink a whole glass of water. Or start doing jumping jacks. Or—
Relationships: Honda Tohru/Sohma Kyou
Comments: 27
Kudos: 256





	feels so good to feel

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for anime-only folks! This takes place toward the very end of the manga, probably right before graduation.

On Monday, it was his hands.

Tohru usually got up a little earlier than everyone else to make breakfast. In spring, the sun was already up by this time, but still low in the sky—it shined through the little windows in Shigure’s kitchen, lighting up the room with an otherworldly glow. She’d always had mixed feelings about her early mornings in the kitchen: she enjoyed cooking, but the quiet gave her too much time with her own thoughts. Recently, Tohru had come to love this quiet time, because, for the first time, her thoughts were all joyful.

As she spooned rice into bowls from the rice cooker, she watched the light shift in the room, dappling the counter with specks that almost looked like flower petals. A familiar picture formed in her mind’s eye: orange hair, warm orange eyes. Unconsciously, she smiled.

“Morning.” Tohru jumped and squeaked, almost dropping the bowl. Lost in her mental image, she hadn’t heard the real Kyo come up behind her.

“Kyo-kun! I didn’t hear you come in!” She spun around.

“You were spacing out again, weren’t you?” His eyes glimmered. She felt the little tingle in the tips of her fingers that she always felt when he smiled—it was so familiar after years of living with him and loving him, but it was different now, too.

Kyo tucked a piece of her long hair behind her ear and bent down to plant an awkward kiss on her forehead. Her cheeks heated up.

“I— I wasn’t spacing out,” she muttered, looking down. Years of fantasizing and dreaming hadn’t prepared her for the way it actually felt when he kissed her now, casually, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Hadn’t prepared her for the strange heat that radiated from his lips as they grazed her hairline.

He’d already moved past her and was starting to take things out of cabinets. She set down the rice bowl, bracing herself on the counter.  _ Get it together _ , she told herself firmly. She took a deep breath and turned around, shaping her face into a big smile.

“What are you making for lunch today, Kyo-kun?” she asked brightly.

“I don’t really know, uh— just some sides for now,” he shrugged. “It’s not as good as when you do it, but I thought I’d make bento for both of us today. If that’s OK.”

There came the heat again, painting her face pink. She thought of her friends, how they were all sexier, more mature, calmer, more grown up.  _ How would Uo-chat act, or Isuzu-san?  _ Her friends, she thought, were unflappable. Why couldn’t she be more like them?

“Oh, you don’t need to do that, Kyo-kun! I can—”

Her eyes fell on him again, and she inhaled sharply.

Kyo had pulled out a small cutting board and a knife and was slicing up one of the fresh cucumbers from Yuki’s garden.

The warm spring sunlight lit his hands, and she saw the fine muscles in his fingers ripple. A sharp shadow was cast by his prominent thumb joint. His long, elegant fingers moved quickly, gently.

She felt a new kind of heat—not embarrassment, like before, and not happiness, either, but something else entirely—pool in the pit of her belly. Those fingers—

Her head spun. She remembered those thin fingers, strong yet soft, wrapping around her much smaller hand. She envisioned them disentangling from her fingers, running along her leg, grazing the bottom of her skirt. Then dancing along her thigh, flickering up toward—

“…with soy sauce?”

His voice cut through her fantasy. She exhaled shakily, unconsciously grasping the edge of her uniform skirt with her own fingers.

“Sorry? What did you say?”

Kyo laughed again, shaking his head. The light flicked over his face as Tohru took another long, steadying breath. 

“You’re such a space cadet, Tohru,” said Kyo, grinning and reaching past her for the soy sauce.

* * *

On Tuesday, it was his shoulders.

Tohru sat with Yuki on the front lawn, going over her math notes together. Having missed all her exams while she was in the hospital, Tohru was preparing for her makeup tests. It felt like those few days in the hospital had sucked all the knowledge out of her brain. Or maybe it had all been replaced by these new, glorious memories with Kyo—a few days with him shined more prominently in her mind than three years of high school.

“So you get three, in the end. Does that make sense?” asked Yuki, writing the end of the equation in his messy scrawl.

“Yes, it does! I—sorry, no, not at all,” Tohru said, biting her lip and staring down at the page. “I’m so sorry, Yuki-kun. I still don’t get it.”

Yuki smiled. “That’s okay! Don’t worry about it! Here, let’s try it like this.”

As Yuki started to write again, a shadow fell over his notebook. Tohru looked up and saw Kyo walking slowly up to them, looking sweaty and happy.

“Ah, Kyo-kun!” Tohru’s heart did a familiar little jump-twist. She suddenly felt very conscious of her bare feet, her legs poking out from under her skirt. Conscious of her  _ body _ .

“Oi, stupid cat. You’re blocking the light,” said Yuki, not looking up. He half-smiled as he said it, though.

Kyo ignored him, placing one of his large hands (oh, those fingers again) on Tohru’s head.

“How was training today, Kyo-kun?” she asked. “How is Shishou-san?”

“He’s still in a great mood, honestly,” laughed Kyo. “Still riding the high of the curse breaking, I think.”

He strolled past her, making for the porch.

“I won’t bother ya,” he said, rolling up the sleeves of his t-shirt to reveal his toned upper arms. “See you in a bit.”

Tohru forced herself to look back down at Yuki’s notes. He was still writing numbers and letters and signs and—her gaze trailed back up.

On the porch, Kyo was stretching. He leaned over with both arms above his head, and a muscle she hadn’t noticed before flexed in his right shoulder, shining with sweat.

And there it was again. That fire inside her, unlike anything she’d felt before.

Her breath caught in her throat. She felt like she needed to drink a whole glass of water. Or start doing jumping jacks. Or—

“Does that way make more sense?” asked Yuki. He looked up at her and did a double-take, realizing she wasn’t paying attention to him at all. His gaze went from his notebook, to the absent, hungry look in her eyes, to Kyo on the porch.

Yuki chuckled.

“You aren’t listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” he asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

Tohru started, casting her eyes down. She knew her cheeks were red again.  _ Channel Uo-chan. Channel Isuzu-san. Be cool. _

“I—I’m sorry, Yuki-kun! I was paying attention! I just noticed a, uh. A—bug. Over there. So I was wondering—uhm.” She stuttered herself into silence.

“Hey you!” called Yuki. “You’re distracting my student here!”

Tohru closed her eyes and took a big, deep breath.  _ Get it together _ .

* * *

On Wednesday, it was his back.

Tohru sat in the seat right behind Kyo in history class. As exams were done (for everyone but Tohru, anyway), their classes were all job advice and review and reflections. Tohru knew she actually needed the review. But the fact remained that it was pretty boring.

She glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes and they’d be done for the day. She’d walk home with Kyo, her hand wrapped up in those wonderful fingers. He’d drop her off and then go to the dojo. She’d have two or three hours at home without him, to study—or, more realistically, to stare out the window wondering when he’d be back.

Had spending just a few hours away from him always felt like the end of the world?

She shook her head, forcing her focus back to the present. Uo-chan, on her right, was doodling little shapes all over the cover of her notebook. Hana-chan, on her left, was staring absently into space (it almost looked like she was paying attention—but that couldn’t be right, could it?)

She didn’t need to look forward to feel Kyo in front of her. He radiated at her constantly. She did look, though, just to catch a glimpse of him, another reminder that he was there, he was safe, he was free—he was hers.

He bent over to write something down. She saw his back, his muscles taught through his uniform jacket. One arm thrown lazily over the side of the desk. One shoulder slightly raised. Strong yet crooked, perfect yet messy.

She felt a funny tingle run along her own back, from her neck all the way down her spine. She pictured Kyo on his back, pressed against the ground—no, against something softer, on his futon, flat on his back with the blankets messy around him, his soft breath on her face as she hovered over him, pupils dilated, eyes alight.

_ Here I go again _ .

Tohru had seen that look in his eyes before—she knew she wasn’t just imagining it. A hard, burning look, like he couldn’t be stopped. She’d seen it the very first time he’d kissed her—or the first time she remembered, anyway, outside the hospital. She’d seen it again the first time they’d kissed in private, in the living room of Shigure’s house in a brief moment of alone time before dinner. She saw it sometimes when she leaned against him when they were watching TV or sitting together at the kotatsu.

That look—

Tohru felt squirmy again, like she couldn’t sit still. She wiggled her fingers, flexed her toes in her shoes.

_ When Kyo-kun looks at me like that...does it mean that he sees me as a woman? _

_ And if so _ —oh, if only— _ how do I get to see that look again? _

* * *

On Thursday, it was his hip bones.

It was evening, and Tohru was cleaning up from dinner. Yuki was helping her; Shigure was half-heartedly looking over a manuscript; Kyo had gone to take a shower.

“You’re teenagers,” said Shigure suddenly.

Tohru started. Yuki rolled his eyes. “And?” he asked suspiciously.

“This is how teenagers are, isn’t it?” Shigure stared down at his manuscript. Yuki pointedly turned away, wiping down the table. Tohru, on the other hand, was curious.

Shigure read aloud. “He wanted her with his whole body, wanted to take her, make her his. He grabbed her by the hips, pulling her onto his lap. He took off her—oof!” Yuki had snatched the manuscript out of his hand.

“What is wrong with you, you dirty old dog?!” admonished Yuki, shooting a surreptitious look at Tohru. 

Tohru didn’t catch Shigure’s response, rushing into the kitchen with just a spoon in her hand. Pretending she hadn’t heard a word.

It wasn’t as if Tohru was totally naive. She was an eighteen-year-old girl. She knew about sex. She even knew people her age who were having it. It wasn’t like she’d gotten a full blow-by-blow or anything, but she’d talked with Isuzu-san about sex, at least in passing. She knew about her body parts, and (in theory) the things she could do with them.

Why did everyone around her seem to think she was a child?

Did  _ Kyo _ think that too?

Annoyed and flustered, she turned the water on, running it over the single spoon. Once again, distracted, she didn’t notice Kyo come into the kitchen.

“Is there something wrong with the spoon?”

For the third time that week, she jumped at the sound of his voice.

“I, uh. What?”

“The spoon. You’re just holding it in the sink. I—are you okay?”

Kyo stood before her. His hair was wet, hanging messily around his face, gently dripping water onto his shoulders. He wore a familiar old t-shirt and sweatpants, a towel draped over his shoulder. It was her Kyo. Her regular Kyo.

But something—

With every passing day, something was different.

She forced a smile and a giggle. 

“I guess I got distracted again!” she said, turning off the sink and running a nervous hand though her hair. Kyo smiled down at her. He seemed calm. Composed. Not at all the kind of desperate mess that she was rapidly becoming.

He casually reached up, rubbing the towel through his wet hair. His soft t-shirt moved with his arm, and Tohru caught a glimpse of the tight skin just above the waistband of his sweatpants. She saw just a bit of muscle, the shadow cast by his sharp hip bone, a tiny triangle of skin.

This time, there was no question about what it was she was feeling.

She felt heat, sudden and insistent, between her legs, and with it, the urge to move, to wiggle, to—

Involuntarily, she met his eyes. Unspeaking, she called him to her, pleading with him.

He took a step forward. There it was. Out of nowhere, a glimmer of that burning look in his eyes, the same burning she felt filling her up.

He took another step toward her. She felt her back hit the sink. The spoon fell on the floor, forgotten.

Kyo took one more step. She could feel his breath on her face. Her legs trembled.

“Tohru—” he murmured. His voice was low and serious. It was a tone she’d never heard before.

“Kyo-kun, I—” She didn’t know what to say, how to explain to him what she was feeling. She trusted him more than anyone else in the world. She’d never not known how to communicate with him before, never not known how to tell him what she needed.

He leaned down, his lips inches from hers. Like he knew, like he felt it too, like that heat united them and drew them together, he leaned over her, his warm, lithe body pushing her harder into the corner.

“Ohohoh, now this is the young love I was talking about!” Shigure’s amused voice came from somewhere outside of Tohru’s reverie, outside of that balmy moment that included just her and Kyo.

Kyo jumped back, flushing a deep red. Tohru turned away.

“Get out of here!” yelled Kyo. 

“What’s going on in there?” came Yuki’s voice.

“Young looooove!” sang Shigure.

Tohru felt hot tears in the corners of her eyes.  _ What is happening to me? _

* * *

On Friday, it was his chest.

Kyo and Tohru had not been alone in Shigure’s house together once since the curse had broken. Tohru didn’t know if it was on purpose or not, but somehow, if Yuki had student council responsibilities or was with Kuragi-san, Shigure was always home. If Shigure was at the Sohma estate (as he was more and more often these days), Yuki was reading or doing homework in the living room.

Did Shigure orchestrate this on purpose? Tohru wondered. Questionable morals aside, he was, after her, their guardian.

That particular evening, the house was  _ full _ . Momiji-kun, Hatsuharu-san, Uo-chan, and Hana-chan had all come home from school with them for somen, and after dinner everyone had ended up splayed around the living room floor. Momiji had curled up on a pile of pillows; Haru and Yuki sat at the kotatsu; Hana-chan sat cross-legged on the floor. Uo-chan perched in front of the TV, rifling through movie options.

Kyo sat with his back against the wall, half-listening to the conversation. Tohru returned from the kitchen, setting a plate of snacks on the table. It was all she could do not to go to Kyo; pointedly, she moved toward Uo-chan and Hana-chan. 

_ I’m not powerless against him.  _ But she felt Kyo’s gaze on her from the corner, and again had the sensation of being painfully aware of her body. She could feel the straps of her dress resting on her shoulders, the shirt against her legs, the neckline just grazing her collar bones. 

“C’mere,” said Kyo, holding an arm out to her. His cheeks flushed, but his gaze was steady.

_ I’m powerless after all _ . She padded over to him, folding herself onto the floor beside him. She tucked her skirt around her legs anxiously. A quiet, devious part of her brain said  _ don’t _ —said to let her skirt ride up, expose her thighs, angle them just so—

_Stop it._ _He’s not thinking like that_. _He’s not thinking about me like that._

This did seem to be the case. Kyo loved her, hard as it was for her to believe. She’d known, consciously, for a short time; unconsciously, for years. But it didn’t seem like he… _ wanted _ her. If he did, she’d know.  _ Right? _

“No, come here,” he said, his voice low. She looked up, catching his eye. He held his arm out wider, inviting her in. She glanced around the room. No one was paying any attention to them. Everyone else was engrossed in conversation, or picking something to watch, or eating snacks. No one was even looking their way.

Tingling, Tohru leaned into him. Kyo wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against him. Her head landed on his chest, and he adjusted so she was neatly tucked in, almost in his lap.

She felt his breath tickle the top of her head.

“Tohru? Is this okay?” he whispered.

_ Was _ it okay?

Tohru didn’t know how to answer that.

Her neck felt hot. She could sense every muscle in his chest, could actually feel his toned abs rubbing against her back. Her legs shook. Unable to stop the mental images, she pictured herself turning around, climbing into his lap, wrapping her legs around him. Pulling him to her, kissing him like he’d never been kissed before. His strong body supporting her, letting her rock against him, setting her on fire—

“I, ummmm. Uh-huh!” she stuttered.

Kyo chuckled. “Tell me if you’re not comfy, okay?” He rested his chin on her head, and she felt his chest relax beneath her. She knew how big a deal it was for him to be able to hold her like this, how scared he felt each time, how relieved he was when he didn’t transform, when he was able to hold her.

Shouldn’t that be enough?

“Kyo-kun,” she whispered, not sure if he could hear. Almost wishing he couldn’t.

“Mmm.”

“There’s—there’s something I need to tell you.” Her voice was so soft. What exactly was it she needed to say?

All she knew was that her body was jelly, trembling, putty in his hands, melting into his chest.

“Ah-ha!” Uo-chan’s voice rang loudly through the room. Before Tohru knew it, she was stiff, upright, Kyo’s arm just barely slung over her shoulder. “I’ve found it! We’re going to watch—”

Tohru tuned her out. Of course this wasn’t the time.

_ But if not now, when? _

* * *

On Saturday, it was the way he touched her.

Did she wear his favorite dress on purpose? It wasn’t that she did, exactly—Sunday was laundry day, and her options were limited. But not  _ that _ limited.

Clad in the gauzy sundress she knew he liked, she stood outside his room. She clenched and unclenched her hands. She could hear him in there, opening and closing drawers, moving around.

_ What is it that I have to say, exactly? _

She turned away. It could wait. Turned back. 

_ Be brave, Tohru _ .

One hand unconsciously bunching up the fabric of her dress, she knocked. Gently. Just once. He could ignore it if he was busy.

The door opened right away.

There stood Kyo, tall, redheaded, muscled frame clad in a black t-shirt, looking handsome and confused.

“Morning, Tohru. What, um—what’s up?”

She felt him taking in her dress (it was morning, after all! What was she thinking, dressing up like this?), her flushed cheeks, her desperate eyes.

“I—”  _ Be brave.  _ “I have to tell you something.”

Looking concerned, he opened the door wider, gesturing for her to come in. He plopped down on the futon. Gingerly, she sat next to him.

There was a long pause. To Tohru, it felt like an eternity.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He reached for her, gently running just two fingers through her hair.

She took a shaky breath. There it was again. The now-familiar feeling between her legs, like she needed to run and jump, or cry, or burn up, or—

“Kyo-kun, do you—” How to ask this? How to ask the boy she adored, who she  _ knew _ adored her, who she knew would do anything for her? How to know if he saw her as a child, like Yuki, like Shigure, like all her friends? How to find out if she was alone in this?

“Kyo-kun, do you…want me?”

Tohru looked down, her cheeks burning. She already felt the tears gathering behind her eyes. She took a slow, shaky breath. The silence stretched on and on.

“What?” Kyo’s voice sounded strangled. “Tohru, what?”

She felt him take her chin with his fingers, tilt it up to look at him. His eyes were huge.  _ Oh god. What have I done? _

“Never mind!” she squeaked. She made to stand up.

A firm hand on her shoulder didn’t let her.

“Tohru. Do I—want…? Do you mean what I think you mean by that? I mean, do you—you—?” She couldn’t look away. His eyes were hard, boring into hers. His fingers dug into her shoulder, bruising.

There was no going back now.

“It’s just, Kyo-kun, recently I’ve been feeling all these things, and I keep getting distracted, I mean, I always get distracted and spaced out, but this is kind of…different, and I was thinking about your hands, and, um, and your shoulders, and your—body, I guess, and, well, I just wondered if you—if you thought those things about me? Too?” Her voice came out like a tiny, almost incoherent whisper.  _ Is this happening? _

“Tohru, you—” Kyo exhaled sharply. He shifted onto his knees before her, placing his other hand on her shoulder too, so he was leaning over her. His fingers dug into his shoulders, grasping at the straps of her dress. “Do you have any idea what the last week has been like for me?”

Silently, relishing in the feeling of his fingers (it all started with the fingers) on her shoulders, Tohru shook her head.

And he told her. Told her about watching her cook breakfast, staring at her tiny wrists and hands and imagining holding them, holding her against him. Seeing her in the hallway at school, gazing unabashedly at the flesh of her thighs peeking out from under her uniform skirt. Catching a glimpse of the back of her neck when he hair blew in the wind and being overcome with the urge to grab her, take her far away, get her alone and kiss her and—

By the end, his eyes were shining, lips hovering over hers. Almost like he was teasing her.

Wordlessly, Tohru closed the distance between them, kissing him hard. His hands wove into her hair, and he pulled her onto him. She felt him under her and automatically wrapped her legs around his waist, just like she’d imagined so many times. He planted little kisses all along her jaw, arms shaking as he ran his hands down her back. Tohru whimpered. The heat was building between her legs. She rubbed herself against him, hesitantly, and felt a roaring beast within her. She clutched at him.

The doorbell rang. 

And it was over.

Kyo was on one side of the futon and she was on the other. She heard Yuki’s footsteps in the hall, Shigure answering the door, loud voices downstairs.

“Um,” she said. “I should—I should make breakfast.”

Kyo looked at her askance, his pupils huge. He said nothing

_ Let this not be over _ .

* * *

On Sunday, Tohru was brave.

As always, Shigure and Yuki were solidly, resolutely at home. For thirty-six hours, all Tohru had thought about was the previous morning. The way she felt with her legs wrapped around him, his body against her body.

The fire hadn’t gone away for that whole day-and-a-half. It consumed her. She felt parched. Stimulated. Electric.

Maybe it was the way things had ended the day before that emboldened her. Maybe it was the last week of yearning. Maybe it was the three years of pining.

But that day, Tohru took matters into her own hands.

After lunch, Yuki had gone up to his room to study. Shigure was in his office working. Kyo was in the living room. Tohru was just finishing hanging up the laundry when the idea struck her.

It was too crazy not to act on right away, or she knew for certain she’d lose her nerve.

Wiping her hands on her dress (not even a cute one!), she marched into the living room. Hands balled into fists, she strode right up to Kyo. He looked up, startled. But the fire was there in him, too. She could feel it.

“Um…Kyo-kun, come with me. Uh, please.” Her voice came out softer and shakier than she’d meant it to. But she grabbed his hand, and she led the way upstairs.

Kyo didn’t say a word as she pulled him up the stairs and down the hall. He only paused when she stopped outside the bathroom.

“Tohru, what—”

Shaking a little, she opened the door. Walked to the shower. Slid the curtain. Turned the knob. Water flowed out, splashing loudly on the shower floor. Steam rose from the tub.

“Nobody’s going to come in here,” she said quietly, not meeting his eyes. “I know everyone’s home, and maybe this isn’t okay, and you can definitely say if it isn’t, and I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but, well—no one would just come in here without knocking, so I just…thought…”

Kyo didn’t let her finish. Suddenly, his hands were on her waist, and she was up against the wall, the towel bar pressing sharply into her back.

“K-Kyo-kun,” she stammered. He kissed her, pushing her harder into the towel rack. But his lips were soft, and warm, and again she felt the wet heat building in her, pooling in her belly.

“All I can think about—” he muttered, his voice husky. His hands were on her waist, and then in her hair, and then against her neck and chest, and then one hand was on her thigh. The fire built between her legs. It was almost unbearable.

Tohru felt the tears stinging her eyes again.  _ I want this. _ She’d fought hard, for Kyo’s freedom, for the safety of the ones she loved. But she’d never  _ wanted _ anything as much as she did right there, in that moment, in the bathroom with Kyo and the shower running and his strong fingers inching up her thigh.

“C-can you—” she whispered. “I want you to—” Unsure how to express what she needed from him, Tohru wrapped her fingers around his wrist, guiding his hand higher. She kissed him harder, lips parted. His fingers brushed against the hem of her skirt, pressed into her thigh, and finally grazed her underwear. He let her guide him.

His kisses slowed. Gently, so carefully, so warmly, he hovered against her underwear.

“Tohru, what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. Her eyes shut, her lips pressed against his, she moved his fingers against the spot where she felt the heat pulsing, radiating out and filling up her body. His fingertip grazed something that was swollen and wet, and she gasped, tugging at his shirt.

“There?” he whispered. Tohru couldn’t speak.

Kissing down her face and onto her neck, he began to move his fingers in little circles against her underwear. Tohru whimpered. Shakily, she guided him, helping his fingers to softly flick against her, barely touching her. Her hands fell to her sides. Gradually, his fingers moved faster and faster, making little circles of star-bright fire burst within her. She felt a white-hot, blinding heat, and shut her eyes against it. She could feel her toes starting to curl. She stopped breathing.

And then—the fire burst. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself falling into a soft, salty ocean, wet and hot and  _ full _ . The ocean was within her and inside of her. She was drowning and floating at the same time.

And then, all of a sudden, she was back in the bathroom with Kyo. Gasping, she pushed his fingers away, gazing up at him. His eyes were bright.  _ This  _ was new.

“Tohru, was that—? Did I?”

She giggled, calm for the first time in a week. A year?

“I still want you, Kyo-kun,” she said.

Taking his hands in hers, she helped him lift her dress over her head. Eagerly, she unhooked her bra as, eyes wide, almost unthinkingly, he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

Awkwardly, she fumbled at his belt, sure of herself and unsure all at the same time. She let him step out of his pants himself, and she wriggled out of her underwear.

In under a minute, there he was—standing there, totally naked, in front of her, in Shigure’s bathroom.

She’d caught glimpses of him naked before, of course, right after he’d transformed back, and even though she’d tried not to look, she’d wanted to, too. Now she could look at him all she wanted. Her eyes roved over his toned chest, his protruding hip bones, his perfect thighs, and—

Even in this situation, even with everything that had just happened, she blushed. There it was. And he was—he was  _ hard. _

Tentatively, he pulled her toward him. With numb fingers, she brushed against him, feeling him pressing against her body, feeling the heat building in her again.

“Is this—is this okay?” he asked her quietly. “If you don’t want to—”

Tohru laughed. She couldn’t help it.

“Kyo-kun! Who confronted you yesterday? Who dragged you up here? Who started  _ all  _ of this?”

He laughed, eyes nervous but gleaming. “Just checking.”

He bent over, and she marveled at the way his muscles rippled under his smooth skin.

“I, uh—happened to find this one time,” he mumbled, haphazardly opening the cabinet under the sink and pulling out a small zippered bag Tohru had never seen before. “I honestly don’t know if Shigure left it here for himself, or for us, just in case, or if he just forgot, or—anyway, it’s here. Been here for years.” Awkwardly, Kyo unzipped the bag and pulled out a condom. “Do you know how to put it on?”

Tohru had to admit that she didn’t. Kyo tore upon the packet, and together, they rolled it over him. Slowly, Kyo sat on the edge of the tub, the shower water hitting his back and sliding over his perfect shoulders, trailing over the muscles in his neck. He guided Tohru to him. She hovered for a moment, then stepped over him, sitting in his lap.

She felt the heat in her body spreading again, filling her, overtaking her senses. Kyo ran little kisses along her collarbone, hands grasping at her hips. She felt him shaking beneath her.

“Kyo-kun, do  _ you _ want to?” she asked, her voice small. He answered by grabbing her hips firmly with both hands, pulling her up and onto him.

She felt a burst of—not pain, exactly, but  _ sharpness _ , as he slid into her. He gritted his teeth, using his hand to guide himself, slowly, bit by bit. Tohru wiggled her hips, helping him. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—not quite bad, not quite good, but somehow  _ full _ .

He whispered, low and slow, and trembled under her. Instinctively, she rocked against him. He responded urgently, moving against her, pushing himself deeper into her.

She clutched his shoulders. He fell against her, covering her neck in kisses. His breathing was shallow.

For a moment, Tohru felt almost in awe of herself.  _ I never knew I had this kind of power. _

She squeezed her eyes shut, her fingernails digging into his shoulders, and she felt him start to tremble. And then he grabbed her, clutching her to his chest, his whole body shaking. She held him, feeling his fingers bruise her waist, experiencing his pleasure and his desire and his need for her.

And then his breathing calmed, and he looked up at her. She gazed at him and saw her own adoration reflected in his deep orange eyes.

Carefully, she slid off of him. She watched as he awkwardly pulled the condom off, tying it and wrapping it in a giant wad of paper towels before burying it at the bottom of the trash can. Sheepishly, he turned to her.

“Just in case,” he said.

And then she started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” asked Kyo indignantly, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her. “What’s—what’s—”

Tohru couldn’t stop laughing.

“I’m sorry—” she gasped. “I’m sorry, it’s not—I don’t mean—I’m just so…so…happy.”

Wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, Kyo laughed too.

Kyo left the bathroom before Tohru. 

“Any weirdo who was paying attention will think I just took a long shower, I guess,” he laughed, turning the shower off and wrapping his hair in a towel. He peeked through the crack in the door before heading out into the hall. Tohru waited several more minutes; the house was silent. It seemed the coast was clear.

Still giddy, she slipped her dress back over her head. As quietly as she could, she tiptoed out the door and down the hall.

Then she stopped. A door was open, and it wasn’t Kyo’s.

“I knew it.”

Yuki appeared from behind his half-open door, a glimmer in his eyes.

“Yuki-kun!” Tohru’s face flushed bright red for what felt like the millionth time recently. “It’s just me, I—Kyo-kun’s not here at all, I don’t know where he is, I’m just—ah—”

Yuki snickered. 

“I saw him leave the bathroom just a minute ago. You two aren’t subtle.”

“I—” Tohru felt like she was on fire, but in a very different way than she’d felt with Kyo in the bathroom. She didn’t know what to say.

Yuki’s expression suddenly turned serious.

“You’re alright?” he asked, his voice low. Tohru nodded, beet red.

She wasn’t sure what to say, so— “I started it,” she whispered. 

Yuki nodded. Then he laughed.

“I should’ve known.”

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! I haven't written a fanfiction in THIRTEEN YEARS but the Fruits Basket remake has rocked my world.
> 
> Title comes from In The Sea by Ingrid Michaelson. 
> 
> I definitely wasn't writing ~horny~ af fanfiction like this back in the day, so this is a real first. I hope you enjoyed!


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